for looking at her; and Bernard, who thought she had never been so handsome as at that particular moment, smiling at her troubled ex-lover, could easily conceive that his friend should desire to prolong this privilege.
'Have you been sitting here long?' Gordon asked, thinking of something at last.
'Half an hour. We came out to walk, and my mother felt tired. It is time we should turn homeward,' Angela added.
'Yes, I am tired, my daughter. We must take a voiture, if Mr. Longueville will be so good as to find us one,' said Mrs. Vivian.
Bernard, professing great alacrity, looked about him; but he still lingered near his companions. Gordon had thought of something else. 'Have you been to Baden again?' Bernard heard him ask. But at this moment Bernard espied at a distance an empty hackney-carriage crawling up the avenue, and he was obliged to go and signal to it. When he came back, followed by the vehicle, the two ladies, accompanied by Gordon, had come to the edge of the pavement. They shook hands with Gordon before getting into the cab, and Mrs. Vivian exclaimed—
'Be sure you give our love to your dear wife!'
Then the two ladies settled themselves and smiled their adieux, and the little victoria rumbled away at an easy pace, while Bernard stood with Gordon, looking after it. They watched it a moment, and then Gordon turned to his companion. He looked at Bernard for some moments intently, with a singular expression.
'It is strange for me to see her!' he said, presently.
'I hope it is not altogether disagreeable,' Bernard answered smiling.
'She is delightfully handsome,' Gordon went on.
'She is a beautiful woman.'
'And the strange thing is that she strikes me now so differently,' Gordon continued. 'I used to think her so mysterious—so ambiguous. She seems to be now so simple.'
'Ah,' said Bernard, laughing, 'that's an improvement!'
'So simple and so good!' Gordon exclaimed.
Bernard laid his hand on his companion's shoulder, shaking his head slowly.
'You must not think too much about that,' he said.
'So simple—so good—so charming!' Gordon repeated.
'Ah, my dear Gordon!' Bernard murmured.
But still Gordon continued.
'So intelligent, so reasonable, so sensible.'
'Have you discovered all that in two minutes' talk?'
'Yes, in two minutes' talk. I should n't hesitate about her now!'
'It 's better you should n't say that,' said Bernard.
'Why should n't I say it? It seems to me it 's my duty to say it.'
'No—your duty lies elsewhere,' said Bernard. 'There are two reasons. One is that you have married another woman.'
'What difference does that make?' cried Gordon.
Bernard made no attempt to answer this inquiry; he simply went on—
'The other is—the other is—'
But here he paused.
'What is the other?' Gordon asked.
'That I am engaged to marry Miss Vivian.'
And with this Bernard took his hand off Gordon's shoulder.
Gordon stood staring.
'To marry Miss Vivian?'
Now that Bernard had heard himself say it, audibly, distinctly, loudly, the spell of his apprehension seemed broken, and he went on bravely.
'We are to be married very shortly. It has all come about within a few weeks. It will seem to you very strange—perhaps you won't like it. That 's why I have hesitated to tell you.'
Gordon turned pale; it was the first time Bernard had ever seen him do so; evidently he did not like it. He stood staring and frowning.
'Why, I thought—I thought,' he began at last—'I thought that you disliked her!'
'I supposed so, too,' said Bernard. 'But I have got over that.'
Gordon turned away, looking up the great avenue into the crowd. Then turning back, he said—
'I am very much surprised.'
'And you are not pleased!'
Gordon fixed his eyes on the ground a moment.
